


Ghosts From the Past

by freckleslikeconstellations



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Awkwardness, Bezoar, Draught of Peace, F/M, Firewhisky, Fluff, Godric's Hollow, Halloween, Humour, Love, Misunderstandings, Philosopher's Stone references, Post-War, Potions, Pre-Epilogue, Pre-War, Pumpkin Pasties, Pumpkins, Reader feeling inadequate compared to Lily, Reader is a Ravenclaw, Reader is a journalist, Romance, Sarcasm, Severus does a lot of swooping, Severus survives the war, Sexual References, body issues, haunted by the war, hometruths, putting pressure on yourself, trying to tell someone you love them without actually saying it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 15:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16495766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckleslikeconstellations/pseuds/freckleslikeconstellations
Summary: Reader is blinded to the truth about her relationship with Severus because all she can see is the ghosts from their past.Will Severus's actions one Halloween make any difference?





	Ghosts From the Past

**Author's Note:**

> A bit late, but I hope you enjoy this and that you all had a great Halloween. :)

I was never quite sure what to do with Severus on Halloween. We’d first become a couple towards the beginning of my seventh-year when eons of me being interested in potion-making and fetching ingredients from his stores had given way to something more. As I remember it he’d helped me find a bezoar and the next thing my lips had been on his. It had been desperate and simmering, _fierce,_ but not out of control. In fact the bezoar had lain quite still in his hand, as I’d tugged him by the cloak to me. He’d smiled at me in a twisted kind of fashion. Both enjoyment and surprise had been stuck in his eyes like mould that he hadn’t been able to get rid of. 

 

It had occurred to me that someone could have walked in and I’d been worried about the rules I’d broken. I hadn’t had to worry about his reaction as much though due to the fact that his feelings had become remarkably clear to me. 

 

My anxieties had gotten lost however the moment that he’d told me, “You should have warned that me you were going to do that. I would have put the bezoar down.”

 

I’d laughed to cover up the way I’d felt all the more drawn to him. I’d felt slightly astonished at his capability to be so husky. We’d had the odd joke, as we’d worked on our separate projects in the classroom, but he’d never sounded like _that_ before. I’d soon become more solemn and scared however when he’d put the bezoar down in a slow, methodical fashion upon one of the workbenches. He’d gotten out his wand and had used it to cast a sealant around the walls and door-presumably so that no one would be able to hear us. At the time it had just made me all the more anxious. Looking back now however I realize that I’d probably taken the initiative and kissed him, and I still don’t quite know what had overcome me and made me do all that so bluntly-I can only put it down to the odd developments in the castle and how I was scared to be leaving _it_ and him so soon-but I feel sure that I’d kissed him when he’d had one of his hands occupied because that had been my way of warding off whatever response he’d had. I guess now that if it had been a negative one he could have always hit me over the head with the bezoar, but somehow, even then I hadn’t been able to picture the thing. No matter his reputation Severus did _care_ for his students. _Besides,_ it would have been a trifle awkward to explain to Headmaster Dumbledore the following morning: ‘Oh yes, by the way Headmaster, I hit a student over the head with a bezoar last night because she came onto me…where is she now? Oh, I don’t know, probably coming around in my Potions Classroom.’ I hadn’t been able to see _that_ happening either. It makes me snort now just to think of the thing. In any case since he’d emptied his hands he’d used the opportunity to draw his cloak out wide and swoop down upon me. His obsidian eyes had glittered all the while, as if they’d been freshly washed and renewed. A gasp of something that had been made purely of surprise and desire had escaped me as those thin lips had initiated a proper kiss between us and those spidery hands had spread a web upon my waist. He’d had quite the effect on me. It had been enough for me to visit the dungeons more so than I’d been doing already. Enough to keep him never too far away from my mind even when things had become uncertain between us. 

 

Take the first Halloween we’d been a couple for instance-I’d noticed that something had been different. Well, it wasn’t hard to, not with a troll being let into the castle, but all the same Severus’s reaction to me throughout the day had been a strange one. When I’d seen how his thoughtful gaze had landed on Harry Potter on more than one occasion over breakfast I’d made one of the floating pumpkins that had already been put into place for the feast that evening explode over the boy’s head and rain down upon the Gryffindor. Severus’s expression had contorted with shock and then fury. The look had not changed when he’d seen that it was me who had casted the spell. He’d gestured that we should leave the Great Hall together with a great jerk of his head, manhandled me into one of the side-chambers and had begun to ask me what I’d thought the meaning of my actions had been. 

 

 _“I-I…”_ I’d been so taken aback and regretful of my sudden hasty rule breaking when usually, and perhaps being a Ravenclaw had helped with this, I’d been a stickler for them. I hadn’t had the courage to tell him that I’d only done it so it might cheer him up a bit and remove whatever deep thought that had threatened to intrude upon his face. 

 

He’d gone on to tell me that he’d never seen such childish behaviour from a seventh-year before even though I was pretty sure he had done. He’d told me to grow up and did I realize what that could have looked like?

 

“I didn't just try and assassinate Harry Potter with a pumpkin!” I’d blurted out to him heatedly, as I’d tried to get him to understand. 

 

“Well, that’s all very well. I quite thought that you hadn’t,” Filius Flitwick had squeaked, as he’d stumbled into the chamber that we’d squirrelled ourselves away in. Severus had finally deemed it a good idea to remove his spitting face further away from me and had drawn himself up. “However it was an unusually dangerous move and not something that I would have expected from you F/N.” 

 

“Not to mention the fact that it could have seriously injured one of my students,” Professor McGonagall had entered the chamber. Her nostrils had flared, as she’d looked disapprovingly at me for a moment, before she’d come to join us. 

 

I’d hung my head in shame as the three of them had stared at me. I hadn’t been used to their cross words being directed my way. I’d been so close to graduating without so much as a blemish on my student record. 

 

“Is there anything particular, which prompted your action do you think?” Flitwick had been a bit kinder to me. 

 

Whilst Professor McGonagall had breathed heavily and my Head of House and she had watched me I’d looked at Severus for a moment. He’d quirked a challenging eyebrow up at me, as if to say that I better have a good reason for doing such a thing. I’d known then that the truth would have shocked him and wiped that grim smirk off his face, but it hadn’t been something that I’d felt able to say with the others being present. I’d bowed my head. “No Professor,” I’d turned back to Flitwick again.

 

He’d scrutinized me for a moment, before he’d shifted his gaze to the others. “Well, as you both know F/N is one of our model students and I'm sure that she’s remorseful of what she’s done and realizes just how poorly it could have looked if the wrong people had seen her.”

 

“Oh I do Professor.” I’d nodded eagerly and been keen to get out of there. 

 

Severus had looked at me haughtily. I’d remembered then that he’d never seemed to like any attempts by students to get out of punishment and had always been suspecting of any charm that had gone his way. There had been a Hufflepuff student in my class who had never been any good in Potions and had always pleaded with Severus to not give him detention, to just guide him and then he’d be able to do it better the next time. Severus had worn a similar expression in that moment with me. Finally he’d said in that self-important tone of his, “Fifty points from Ravenclaw.”

 

_“Fifty?!”-_

 

“And let that be a lesson to you to never do such an appallingly silly thing again.” He’d swished away from us, as his hooked nose had pointed in the air. Professor McGonagall had nodded at Flitwick and given me a rather stern gaze, before she’d departed too. Flitwick had sighed a little, as if to tell me that he hadn’t really needed that, that morning and I’d been in a wholehearted agreement with him. Then he’d patted me softly on the arm, as if to remind himself that I wasn’t usually like that and hurried out of there.

 

I’d tried to apologize and make further amends with Severus later that evening, but he’d told me that I should be lucky that he wasn’t going to dock more house points from me in the circumstances-I’d been wandering about after the troll incident after all. Then he’d proceeded to drag me out of the classroom. Whilst he’d pinched my arm tight I’d tried to explain that I’d only done it because of him, but his gaze had barely shifted all the same and he’d shut the door in my face when I’d tried to ask him why he’d been limping. 

 

I’d found out the reason for his limping at the end of the year when it had become clear to me that he’d been helping to protect the Philosopher’s Stone. 

 

I’d also started to realize other things during the years, which had followed. For one that Severus loved Lily Potter, or Lily _Evans,_ as she’d been mostly to him, and I owe Remus Lupin, a fellow member of the Order of the Phoenix and one of the few people who had known about my relationship with Severus, for giving me the final piece of the puzzle that had allowed me to connect everything. He’d told me about them you see. About their friendship and their falling out. I’d realized through learning that, that, that must be why Severus had strove to keep Harry, Lily’s son, safe. Perhaps it was also too why he’d clamped down on me so hard for the pumpkin incident. Not only had I undermined the work that I hadn’t even realized he’d been doing at the time, but the fact that it was me who had done it must have made things ten times worse for him when he’d only just placed his faith in me. 

 

I’d re-connected with him on a deeper level after the war. We hadn’t had much time for our relationship to develop until that point. Of course I think now that Severus must have wanted me to be safe too as I had wanted him to be. Not that either of us had made it easy for the other. Severus had, had his double-agent status after all, though I hadn’t known about that until the truth had come out at the end of the war, and I’d been one of the main correspondents for an anti-Voldemort newspaper that had been started up when the Daily Prophet had become more and more unreliable. We’d found each other just mere weeks after Severus’s non-fatal bite with Nagini and though there had been many calls for him to become Headmaster of Hogwarts after the truth of his role had come to the fore he’d refuted them all in embarrassment and settled for returning to his old job of Potions Master. I’d sometimes thought that I was the reward he’d let himself take, but hadn’t been able to work out how temporary such a thing had been. He’d wanted me to move into his rooms at the castle with him. Wanted me to work from Hogsmeade and not in Diagon Alley, as I had been doing previously for the re-formed Daily Prophet. I’d agreed to all those things because I’d thought that, that was what I’d wanted too, and as my mother had told me it was only fair that I gave our relationship a real chance, but then I had begun to doubt myself. 

 

He had respect and love for me yes. I’d felt that and even been able to witness it on more than one occasion-the most memorable of them being when I’d gotten burnt one night as we’d made the Draught of Peace together. If anything had confirmed his feelings for me then it had been the way that he’d been so concerned for me upon seeing the jagged hole the potion had pierced in my robe and the way that he’d fussed and told me off until the wound had been clean. He’d also let me see the scar of his Dark Mark and given me a glimpse of the loneliness he’d previously suffered in his childhood and that had gone some way to showing his feelings for me, but I hadn’t been sure whether those brief snatches in time would be enough to keep our relationship chugging along in the right direction. 

 

Colleagues who had hounded me in a so-called professional capacity and asked if I was going out with him and how much I’d known about his status during the war had also plagued me. They’d wanted to know of course about how much Severus had poured his heart out to me about Lily-the true answer had been zero then because whenever I’d tried to clumsily breach the subject that had shut him down immediately. 

 

It had been hard too, though I’d tried to do it rather secretly because I’d sensed instinctively that Severus wouldn’t approve, to read Rita Skeeter’s biography of the man I was supposedly dating and see how much Lily had both influenced and effected his life, whilst I’d been trying to build myself up again and adjust to our deeper relationship. Inadequate hadn’t even come close to how I’d felt. _Still,_ one thing in my favour was that after being on the run throughout the war I’d become used to concealing my belongings in odd ways. In that case I’d hid the book from Severus through transfiguring it into all sorts of women’s products that I’d known would stop him from investigating too thoroughly even if he’d suspected I was doing such a thing. I’d wondered from reading the book though if I would ever be able to live up to Lily. When he saw who I really was and had more to go on than the few flares of passion we’d shared would he decide that it was not for him and ask me to move out? That I was too much trouble because of the nightmares I had and the way I was struggling to re-adjust to a more normal life? Would he decide that he didn't want to keep making the Draught of Peace for me? He'd insisted on doing such a thing ever since my injury even though I had not been put off potion-making in the slightest by it. Would he decide that he’d much prefer to claim a quieter life, _or,_ date one of the many women I had known would be all too happy to replace me? Women whose charred fragments of fan letters lay in the fire frequently. I’d never asked if he replied or indeed kept any of the letters. I hadn’t had the courage to. 

 

I still hadn’t known how to treat him on Halloween either and because we lived together I’d been less able to avoid him. On that first one after the war I’d tried to breach the subject of what had happened when Lily had been killed on Halloween all those years ago, as I’d thought that, that was what a good partner would do, but it had felt too early on in our relationship-considering if you counted properly our relationship had only really been started in those last few months-for that kind of thing to have fit either of us comfortably. The next four after that I’d let him get on with it and on yesterday’s one _I’d,_ at a point of some despair in what had seemed to me to be our flailing relationship, made my own special version of Firewhisky and had cooked spicy Pumpkin Pasties for him, as if that was what he’d really needed on such a day. 

 

He must have sensed that I was despairing when I’d lain them out a little guiltily in front of him post-dinner in our rooms. The fact that I’d had the day off to think about our relationship hadn’t helped matters either. He’d given me a more refined look of the one that he’d shown me when I’d dropped a pumpkin on Harry Potter’s head all those years ago. I was still apparently the same girl to him and that had made me feel all the sadder. When would I transform into the beautiful witch I’d hoped to become? Full of grace and elegance? When would the bruises I’d earnt in my time as a war correspondent fade and no longer have to be covered up with any make-up for me to feel right about Severus seeing my skin? What did he even see in me if I couldn't be there for him on a day like that one?

 

“You seem to be forgetting that I am able to read your mind.” His lip had curled. “For your information I would have thought it obvious that I would be understanding of your body when I have my _own_ scars.” 

 

“I wasn’t sure,” I’d confessed, “Perhaps it’s for the best though that you know I'm not happy with the way our relationship is?” My emotions had wavered. I’d wanted to take strength from what he’d just told me. To believe that to him the way I looked did not matter. The problem was I hadn’t been able to see it. 

 

“I already know such a thing,” Severus had muttered darkly. “You might like to remember that you have hardly let me in as much as you think you have. At least I’ve _tried_ even though that’s apparently not good enough for you. I haven’t even met your mother yet.”

 

“I like to keep aspects of my life separate,” I’d been snappish. 

 

“Especially when you are not sure of them? Not sure of _me?”_ I’d sighed and had sat down behind the tray of Pumpkin Pasties. I’d had a quick sip of the Firewhisky and had coughed. The scratchy, hot sharpness of it had reminded me of all the times when I’d managed to get my hands on alcohol during the war. It had never really tasted that good, but it had helped to numb and reassure me nonetheless. “I don’t know how you can drink that,” Severus had told me, before he’d stood up, “It’s like poison.” A flicker of an old memory had flitted between us like a bat in flight, but Severus had not been about to let us re-visit it at that point. _“Come.”_ I’d looked at him. “I wish you to partake in something that has become a bit of a tradition of mine on this day. It might relieve some of your anxieties.” He’d turned away from me then, put on his outdoor cloak and had clearly expected me to follow him. 

 

I’d pulled a bit of a face because I hadn’t been able to picture any particular place he could take me to being able to soothe me. Then I’d laid the Firewhisky down with a clunk, gotten up, stretched and pulled on my own outdoor cloak-a navy one, which had complemented his emerald green-before I’d caught up to him. 

 

He hadn’t said a word when I’d done so, but I’d thought that I’d detected a faint smile upon his features. It had seemed like I was going along with whatever plan he had so far. 

 

He’d led me through the castle and just as we’d drawn level to the Great Hall a few live bats had fluttered through the doors and then out of the main ones, which had been slightly ajar and had revealed a glimpse of the red-white sky and the sight of the trees that had moved in the breeze to us. A moment later Flitwick had exited the Great Hall and had looked both surprised and pleased when he’d seen me by Severus’s side. 

 

“Taking a stroll?” he’d squeaked. His eyes had glinted merrily. 

 

“Something like that,” Severus had muttered, before he’d grabbed at my hand and had pulled me outside. As our feet had padded along the path that had been in the middle of the soft, spongy, mossy grass Severus had let go of me once more-he still hadn’t liked the children seeing any signs of affection between us despite the fact that they’d known we were together-and we’d gone as far as leaving the grounds entirely, before we’d come to a halt. “You might like to place your hand on my arm,” the instruction had been all stiff and formal. I’d known better than to ask where we were going and had done what he’d wanted me to. 

 

My stomach had swooped, the trees had become a blurry haze, a few odd and sickly memories of my time being a war correspondent, especially those of close shaves, had come back to me and I’d grasped hard onto Severus’s arm and had tried to focus on his familiar scent of musk and spice as we’d disapparated. We’d landed with a bit of a thud and I’d staggered a little away from him. 

 

“The one thing you’re hopeless at,” he’d muttered with both ruefulness and something that had been almost fond as he’d pulled me back to his side again. I'd thought that he'd added another line to his words too, but hadn't been sure. 

 

Perhaps to further confirm how he'd felt for me I’d wanted to tell him that there were many things I was hopeless at, but then both fear and shock had set in as I’d realized where he’d taken me. We’d been on a small, narrow street that had led up to a church. Quaint cottages had been on either side of us. Some of them had lit pumpkins by their doors or windows and they’d seemed to peer at our sudden appearance, as curiously as if we’d been creatures of the night ourselves. It had already been darker there-the sky was a more bloody red. I’d shivered underneath it, as I’d remembered when I’d gone there previously. It had been because of work, or that was what I’d convinced myself of. _Really,_ perhaps I’d gone there too late on that Christmas, 1997 because I’d been tired and had wanted to see where all of this had begun-the house where Harry had defeated Voldemort for the first time. I hadn’t gone to Godric’s Hollow since however and I definitely hadn’t wanted to be there with Severus at any point. I hadn’t understood about what he’d said about the place making me feel better. Surely it was the one area he could guarantee would make me feel worse instead? My knees had sunken a bit further into the cold, crisp earth of the place, as I’d contemplated what purpose he could have brought me there for. The lines of the cottages had looked suddenly jagged and unwelcoming as they’d loomed either side of us. They’d been in such contrast to the soft turrets at Hogwarts, which had seemed to blend into the sky.

 

 _“Severus…”_ I’d felt uncomfortable and had wanted to get out of there. I’d felt even more discomfited when I’d seen a group of young children trick-or-treating, as they’d steadily made their way up and down the street. One of them had been dressed up like Dumbledore and even had similar x-ray blue eyes like he'd had. That was something you couldn't put on or teach and it had chilled me. When we’d made to go by and the boy had looked at me and smiled I’d almost vomited. I’d wondered if I’d belonged there like everyone else seemed to think I did. I'd felt displaced in time. 

 

Perhaps Severus had sensed my uneasiness because our fingers had touched when we’d gone through the kissing gate of the church. Though I’d learnt by then that any touches by him were deliberate it hadn’t much appeased me that night and I’d only taken a couple of steps into the graveyard, before I’d stopped. “Are you sure about this?” I’d wanted to delay what had seemed like the inevitable-him breaking up with me in this place out of all of them on this day, the anniversary of Lily’s death, and leaving me to feel all the more miserable. We might not have gotten used to one another-and I wasn’t sure how long it would take since it had already been years-but I knew I’d miss him terribly and more than that rue the fact I had not been able to salvage our relationship. 

 

He’d turned and had studied me for a moment, before he’d merely crooked his arm and had told me without words that he had been all right to have me with him there. I’d broken the distance between us and had tentatively placed my hand upon his arm. I’d felt his bicep tense beneath me. Swallowing I’d obliged as we’d turned as one, but when we’d gotten closer to the headstone I’d known that he’d been leading me to, I’d withdrawn and had walked half-a-step behind him because I’d seen that there had already been two people by the grave. Harry and Ginny Potter, as they were known by that point, had stepped a little further back from Harry’s parents’ grave where they’d left an orange and brown autumnal wreath and had half-turned in acknowledgement of us. My fringe had hid a little of my eyes, but they’d been laser focused nonetheless on the sight of Ginny’s swollen pregnant stomach. I’d known then that not all couples were happy when children were involved and sometimes _especially_ because of them-I’d thought back to the little that Severus had told me of his own childhood and the fighting that had gone on between his parents-but the sight of it then had seemed to tell me that their relationship was faring a lot better than mine. I’d been vaguely aware of the men, as they’d nodded at one another, which had seemed like an appropriate reaction considering that they’d spent most of their whole history with each other at odds. I’d half-expected Severus to whisper, _‘Potter,’_ in an accusing tone and Harry to look defensive, before it had occurred to me once more that, that was all in the past now and they were far more civilized with one another. I’d felt Ginny, as she’d stared at me, but had made no move to look at her. 

 

The couple had made to go around us and to depart in order to give us some privacy and time alone there-clearly Harry was used to sometimes coming across Severus in that place. Harry had half-tried to find my eyes by ducking his head. 

 

“It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming,” he’d told me sincerely. I had not been sure if that had been his way of telling me that he’d forgiven me for nearly giving him concussion all those years ago. 

 

“Mm,” I’d offered back. My hands had fidgeted at the sudden self-awareness I’d felt. 

 

The young man had smiled at me in a bit of a reassuring fashion, before he’d followed his wife away from the place. I’d seen Lily in his eyes as he’d gone and had felt frozen to the spot. She always seemed to be there to remind me of my failings. 

 

“Well, that mystery’s over,” Severus had turned towards me sardonically. 

 

 _“Hm?”_ I’d glanced in an absent-minded fashion at him and had wondered what he’d been going on about. He was by the headstone, but had looked back at me. 

 

“They’ll know now, thanks to _Potter”-_ perhaps the past hadn’t quite been gone between them after all-“That you are only able to speak coherently in your columns.” He’d looked at me, before he’d clarified further, “I think, despite everything that’s happened, some people still wondered if I’d used a love potion on you.” I’d felt certain that it was in fact the other way around. A hero was more desirable than someone who had gotten by on their wits and nothing else. “It was difficult for them to see me in any other way. To accept that though there is darkness inside me I used it predominantly for good. Apparently it is for you too.”

 

 _“Sev”-_ I’d been alarmed by his words. “I _know_ you’re a good man”- 

 

“Do you? Because you don’t seem to realize,” he’d eyed me steadily, “That everything I do for you”-I’d shifted uncomfortably-“All the potion making, the reason I burn those fan letters, in fact the very reason I let you live with me in the first place and share my rooms at the castle”-

 

“As I recall,” I’d told him, “You never gave me much choice. You said, _‘when_ I moved in,’ as if it was a done deal.” 

 

“Did _I?”_ He’d smiled at me thinly then, and I’d sensed that his mind, like mine, had gone back to the fateful encounter we’d had in a pub in Knockturn Alley. Severus had apparently gone there because he’d felt like going out, but unfortunately there hadn’t been many places he’d been able to escape from his fans. I’d gone there because I’d felt like something _‘poisonous,’_ as Severus had labelled it at the time and done so ever since. Neither of us had expected to see one another. For our lonely night to end with sloppy and frantic lovemaking in his rooms. I’d felt warmer as I’d recalled it. The slight pink that had tinted his cheeks had showed me that he had too. “In any case,” he’d tried to get back to his point and I’d smiled, “I wasn’t so presumptuous because I felt pity for the down and out reporter, for the way that you felt strain after the war, the way you _still_ do. It wasn’t something I did grudgingly or because I felt I had to. You weren’t my next project to work on. I didn't show you my Dark Mark and tell you short monologues about my family just to while away the evenings. I just wanted to get to know you and as I did so it became less and less necessary for me to break into your mind any more”-

 

“You still”-

 

“No, I don’t need to.” He’d looked at me levelly. “I know how your mind works by now.” I’d been silent. “Don’t you realize that you would have felt it if I had? Felt me trying to rummage around in there? Have you forgotten how that works too?” It had occurred to me that I had done such a thing. “You won’t openly share your unhappiness with me. You won’t let me see you as you truly are.” He’d threatened to go pink again. “You won’t let me meet your mother.” I’d almost scoffed at that, as if he’d wanted to meet my mother anyway! What would that prove? “That you are perhaps more willing to trust me and stir all the elements of your life together?” He’d read me once more. “That you don’t _need_ to hide yourself from me?” 

 

“I _do_ trust you.” I’d been a little indignant at his personal attack on me-even though I’d expected such a thing it had still hurt. It had felt like we were back in Potions Class all those years ago and he’d been telling me everything that was wrong with my potion, making me want to defend myself even though I’d known that he was probably right about it all. “And I only feel the need to hide myself so much because you’re _you”-_ he’d pulled a face as if to ask what was _that_ supposed to mean?-“I know you’ve done good things, but I find you intimidating sometimes because of the way you used to live. I can’t help it”-

 

“You only feel that way because you have taken Rita Skeeter’s words at face value.” I’d blanched. “She wants to see tragedy and that after everything I need to heal. That is true of some days and nights, but not all of them. You have forgotten that she is just annoyed because I refused to let her interview me for the book. Did you really think that I wouldn’t realize that every time you went off to the bathroom you were reading a few more of her lines and letting her words poison your mind as much as the alcohol you love so much? I could not believe it was because of your stools that you came out looking so glassy-eyed.” 

 

 _“Sev…”_ I’d grimaced, as if he was being disgusting. When he’d looked at me heatedly however I’d added, “I was just being curious”-

 

“And yet, for a journalist you were rather negligent of your tasks weren’t you?” 

 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” I’d prickled at his words. These days I was mostly doing the role of an editor, but I had a column once every two weeks about, _‘Hogwarts News.’_ My own editor always made me write a snippet of what was happening in Severus’s life in each one-sometimes I’d gotten so stuck in trying to think of something that I’d had to make it up-and Severus had probably been able to tell that I felt sensitive about that too. That I’d wondered if I’d regressed and become stupider since dating him and I’d agreed to do such a column. 

 

“It means that you chose to get to know me properly through other sources and not me when I was beside you every day, waiting and willing to answer any of your questions”- 

 

“That’s not true. Whenever I tried to ask you before you just completely shut down on me”-

 

“Yes, because I didn't realize how important it was to you then. If you’d asked me since however”-

 

“If you'd known I was so troubled then why didn't you just answer all my questions for me in the first place? What would you have even told me if you had done? That I could never live up to Lily? That she was beautiful and radiant and she gave up her life for her son and she would have done anything for anyone and she was the love of your life? Because I _know_ those things Severus. I have to live with them every day. The fact that I’ll never be good enough…” I’d swallowed quickly as soon as I’d finished and had realized how loud my voice had sounded in the otherwise silent graveyard. If there had been any press watching then they would have had a field day no doubt at the sight of Severus Snape’s current girlfriend ranting on about Lily Potter. 

 

“I would have told you that she is _gone!”_ he’d said in a strained whisper. He’d taken two quick steps hurriedly towards me. He’d ripped up my sleeve and had felt my pulse and we’d both just stood there for a moment. _“That”-_ he’d looked like he’d been trying to calm himself down and though his chest had heaved underneath his black attire he’d taken a couple of deep breaths in between his words-“That I know I sometimes have to do better at living in the present too, but that she is gone and surely it must have occurred to you by now the reason why I have kept doing everything I do for you?” He was back at the point he’d first been trying to make. It was only a few minutes since he’d started, but we’d been colder. He’d moved his hands to clutch at where my arms had become folded.

 

“I am your reward. You don't want to lose that.” I’d looked down in the space that was between us. 

 

“Yes, but you are so much _more_ to me than that,” he’d told me honestly, before he’d rumbled impatiently, “Will you please look at me when I'm talking to you? I don’t know if I’ll be able to repeat this ever again.” Gingerly I’d looked at him. “I love her”-he’d stared hard for a moment at the headstone, before his eyes had swivelled back to me-“I probably always will”-

 

“I get it Severus.” I’d taken a step back from him. I was heavy-hearted, but truly I did. “You don’t have to explain it to me.” 

 

“You are unbearable!” He’d let out a groan of despair over my failure to understand the way things were still. Then he’d given me the biggest shock of all. He’d swooped to me and had kissed me. It hadn’t been a chaste one either like the brief peck he might, and that was if I had been lucky, have offered to my cheek if we’d been in polite company, but open-mouthed, and hot in every sense of the word. _Wanting._ I’d clutched onto his arm as his hands had fallen to my waist. They'd nearly gotten lost but he'd said the words, 'I love you,' right into my mouth. Slightly dizzy I’d pulled away from him and had drawn a large breath as I’d done so. 

 

“Silly witch,” he’d mumbled to me, as he’d adjusted the collar of my cloak and I’d realized it then. 

 

“You…You brought me here because…”

 

“I was hoping that might be enough to make you understand what I have just told you." I'd smiled a bit at his attempt to avoid saying those words out loud. " You in particular seem to have become trapped of late and so though it hadn’t been my intention I had to make you my project after all. I wanted you to see that for not only these past few minutes, but past few years in fact and the more we've gotten to know one another I have come to feel that way about you and understand what it is to feel that way rather than the fantasy I had with Lily.” I’d blinked in astonishment. “I couldn't let you go on without knowing it for any longer,” he’d gone on embarrassedly and he'd gotten pinker at that point, “Because I could sense the distance that you were creating between us, so can we simply appreciate what we have now without comparing it or with you thinking I am wishing for something else any longer? I could not bear it if the reason I fought so hard is the one why we can’t be together now.” 

 

I’d nodded, let out a big breath of relief and he’d rolled his eyes at my drama, as was his custom and mine with his. Then, as he’d adjusted my collar once more and I’d realized and had been happy about the fact that we were in it for the long haul, I’d wrapped my arms around his waist and had pushed my face against his chest. "I love you too Severus." 

 

Maybe next Halloween I would know what to do with him after all…


End file.
